


Set in Stone

by gusthemoose



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gargoyles AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-14 21:04:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gusthemoose/pseuds/gusthemoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are monsters living in the basement of the Hale House.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [virtualdon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualdon/gifts).



> Author’s Note: Happy birthday virtualdon! Here’s the Gargoyles AU that you’ve been hounding me for since I first mentioned the idea to you. Sadly, it sort of spiraled out of control. I’m sure you’re crushed that there are going to be more chapters and it’s turning into an epic.
> 
> An FYI to the folks who stumble onto this fic: it’s been a long time since I saw Gargoyles and while I’m doing the best I can on research I might get a few things wrong or twist a few facts here and there for the sake of the story. Please don’t kill me.
> 
> Also, thanks to my beta and sister who puts up with the crimes I commit against grammar on a regular basis and my irrational fear of commas.

The Hale House was a legend in Beacon Hills. Middle school kids whispered back and forth at sleepovers about the old house in the woods where on full moons you can hear howling or see glowing eyes in the windows. High schoolers dared each other to see how close they can get to the old, falling apart house before they run away from shadows.

Back in his day - and wow didn’t that make Stiles feel old as balls - Hale House was just a house. Laura and her husband Paul lived in the house like the nature-loving hippies they were. This was California. People living out in the woods to get away from the suburbs wasn’t unheard of. He remembered meeting Paul Hale once, in town at the grocery store back when his mom was still alive. He seemed like an okay guy.

When John died, Laura Hale hung on for three more years before she died. By then, Stiles was in high school and could understand that it was sad, but he didn’t really know the Hales, so he moved on with his life. He got through high school, didn’t play a single game of lacrosse and then went off to Berkeley for his Criminal Justice degree.

By the time he got back and got through the Sheriff’s department training program, the first rumors of Hale House being haunted started. He had laughed them off. Laura Hale died peacefully in her sleep. There was no reason for the house to be haunted. Not that Stiles believed in that stuff. Pft. Ghosts. Right.

When he was elected Sheriff a few years after joining the department - Dad had to retire because his knee was bad and his heart was still iffy - teenagers started sneaking out to the Hale house. It was some sort of rite of passage or drunk antic. It was annoying, especially on a rainy Friday night two weeks before Prom.

“Seriously? This is what you guys want to do on a Friday?” Stiles swept his flashlight back and forth across the group of three teenage boys he’d caught walking up to the house. “Aren’t there video games you want to play? Minecraft is still awesome, you know.”

One kid, very lanky with a classic Jackson “I’m a douche” haircut, rolled his eyes. Since Stiles was a mature adult these days, he did not regret that even with a gun and a badge he’s still not cool.

“I really don’t want to write you kids up, so here’s the deal: one time only, get out of here. Go home. Tell your friends you totally almost got arrested for breaking in, whatever, just go.” He made a shooing motion with his hand.

The kids exchanged looks between each other, mumbled something that might have been ‘thanks’ and ‘sorry’, then took off for their car. Stiles stayed where he was to make sure they actually drove off and didn’t double back on the side road to try again.

While watching the taillights of their Honda disappear, there was a distinct thump and something that could have been a growl from the Hale House. Stiles did not jump. He was Sheriff. Sheriffs did not jump at weird noises from old houses in the middle of the night.

“Oh my God, if they left a friend inside I’m going to arrest them for being dicks!” Stiles huffed out a breath as he walked up to the house. “Seriously, kids these days... I’m going to stop before I sound like my Dad and feel older than I am.”

He cleared his throat before adopting his Sheriff persona. He knocked on the door, pushed it open and yelled into the blackness, “Sheriff’s department! If you’re hiding come on out and I’ll drive you home.”

Silence and then the distinct sound of someone scrambling below him. Stiles rolled his eyes. Teenagers were the worst to deal with. They were right up there with drunks on his scale of ‘People I Hate Dealing With’.

“Enough games, kid.” He walked into the house, sweeping his flashlight back and forth across the room. It was a nice sitting room but what struck him was the lack of dust. Everything was clean, orderly and not the least bit dirty or falling apart. Hale House had been empty for years. The place should be a wreck, but it wasn’t.

Sure, the place was cleaned out. There were no decorations, no little homey touches, but nothing was deteriorating. The wood floor gleamed in the beam of his flashlight, and he couldn’t find a single cobweb in the corners of the room. Someone was taking care of the place. Someone was living here.

That didn’t make any sense though. The outside of the house was a wreck. There were broken windows, the roof was missing shingles and the yard looked like something out of Jurassic Park. Stiles felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Beacon Hills didn’t have much major crime, but they did have pot growers and meth makers who liked to use the woods to hide their activities.

He reached down and undid the button snap of his holster.

“Sheriff’s Department! Come out now with your hands up!” he yelled again with more authority.

There was nothing but silence this time. Stiles walked through the whole first floor, clearing it room by room. There was nothing major but little things that made him more and more suspicious. There was running water in the kitchen and bathrooms. There was no food in the fridge but the cabinets had clean dishes. Someone had to be living in the house.

He moved to the second floor next. There were no beds, but he found one room that had stacks of books and a little hand crank radio. Stiles reached for his own radio. “Sheila, I need some backup at the Hale House. There’s someone living here.”

“Gotcha Sheriff. I’ll send Deputy Murphy to meet you out there.”

Feeling a bit reassured that he’d have someone coming out to meet him, Stiles got back to his search. There was no one upstairs so he moved back downstairs and found the basement. It was a long staircase. The beam of his flashlight just barely touched the last step. Everything else was black.

“For the last time, come out or I’m coming down there for you!”

No one suddenly appeared so Stiles had no choice. He pulled his gun out this time because the basement was the perfect place for an ambush. He should wait for Deputy Murphy to join him. He shouldn’t go down into the basement straight out of a CSI episode but he did because it was his job.

He went down slowly, taking one step at a time with careful sweeps of his flashlight. He made it to the last step and onto the dirt floor before he saw movement. It was just shadows out of the corner of his eye but he swung his flashlight around and caught the tail end of something disappearing into the black. No. Seriously. He caught the tip of a tail in the beam of his flashlight.

“What the hell?” He made another sweep with his flashlight but there was nothing.

When he got hit from behind, Stiles mentally called himself all sorts of insulting names but he rolled with the momentum and got onto his back, gun raised at... at something standing over him.

The thing roared, a huge, thundering sound, and showed huge, gleaming white fangs in its mouth. Stiles shot it. In the beam of the flashlight it was a pale, cream color. It wasn’t the same color as skin, almost like sandstone. The creature bled a silvery white. It roared again, this time in pain and disappeared into the shadows.

It came back with a friend.

The creature that appeared out of the shadows was massive, broad shouldered and tall as fuck with skin the color of dried blood, a deep red so dark it was almost black. Stiles was about to shoot it when it reached out and crushed his gun in its fist. It snarled in his face with glowing red eyes.

He slammed his forehead into its nose and the thing reared back, looking confused. Stiles took the opening and scrambled to his feet. He pulled his Mace from his belt and held it in front of him.

“Sheriff’s department, stay right where you are.” His voice wasn’t steady but at least he got the words out without pissing his pants.

“What are you doing here?” the creature growled.

Stiles laughed, hysteria creeping in right at the end. “It talks! Holy fucking fuck it talks.”

“Derek,” another voice from the shadows. “We can’t kill him.”

“Yeah, what the mysterious voice said.” Stiles’ heart was beating frantically in his chest. It wasn’t a panic attack, not yet. If these things really did try to kill him it might quickly become one though. He would really appreciate a meth crazed junkie right now. Those people made sense. This was some sort of crazy hallucination shit right now.

“If he talks he’ll bring hunters to us. He’ll get us all killed!”

“If we kill a Sheriff and they find his body out here, he’ll bring the whole world to our door.” The voice stepped out of the shadows but it didn’t make it any more noticeable. The second creature was a warm gray, that weird color somewhere between gray and brown. It looked menacing on the creature, not weird at all.

The red one - apparently called Derek which was just too normal of a name for Stiles liking - was a little taller, a little broader but narrower in the hips. It had a line of three short horns where its eyebrows should be, each of them tipped with black. Stiles was surprised that the thing had hair on top of its head, which was weird because he really should be more surprised by the wings, tail and claws. Except in his head a thing that looked like that shouldn’t have hair. The gray one didn’t have hair which was oddly reassuring.

It did have two curled ram horns that started at it’s temples and curled back behind its head. It was built sort of the same as the red one, broad but all the way down. It looked like a solid concrete wall that could cave Stiles’ face in without thinking about it. Considering the red one had crushed his gun like it was a college bro with a beer can, Stiles was kind of glad the gray one was on his side.

“It’s right,” he said, voice still a little panicky. “I called for backup and a Deputy is on his way. You wouldn’t even have time to hide the body or move my patrol car. You’d have the whole department down here in an hour.”

Derek growled but didn’t lunge and tear his throat out with his teeth. He straightened up, folded his wings around him like some sort of cloak and crossed his arms across his very impressive chest. “If you tell anyone, you’ll either be called a lunatic and locked up, or I’ll find you and kill you.”

Again, Stiles laughed at him. “You’re kidding right? What the fuck am I going to tell people? ‘Hey, so there are monsters living in the basement of the Hale House?’ Do I look like an idiot?”

Derek raised one horned eyebrow, skeptical and sarcastic in the same expression. Stiles had a clever rebuttal but was interrupted by another voice, this one distinctly feminine.

“I don’t know, I think he’s kinda cute.” A cream-colored female creature stepped into the flashlight beam and draped herself on the arm of the gray one. She had long blond hair that curled around her set of two horns that went back from her temples. “I like the uniform.”

A monster girl found him cute. If only Stiles had that kind of luck with women who didn’t have claws and horns.

“Erica.” Derek shot her a look, clearly disapproving.

“What? He said he’ll keep our secret.” She slipped away from the gray one and stalked towards Stiles. Outnumbered and surrounded, he lowered the can of Mace. If these things decided to maul him, there wasn’t much he could do about it.

So far, they weren’t that bad. At least they were intelligent enough to reason with and talk. They had names. For some reason, finding out they had names was really reassuring, even if they were all boring as hell. Why didn’t they have cool names like Goliath or Circe?

The cream one, Erica, circled around him, occasionally leaning in to sniff at him. Stiles craned his neck around. “Uh, can I help you?”

“How’s Isaac?” Derek asked while Erica continued to investigate Stiles.

“He’ll make it to morning. After the stone, he’ll be fine.”

“Is that the one I shot?” Stiles shouldn’t have asked the question because everyone in the room growled at him. “Hey, hey, not my fault! He jumped me. I’m an officer of the law, I have training for stuff like that. That training says shoot things that are going to kill you.”

“He wasn’t trying to kill you,” Derek said, sounding annoyed.

“He said you were going to kill me!” Stiles pointed at the gray one whose name he still didn’t fucking know.

“I was. Isaac wasn’t.”

“Seriously? That’s not reassuring, Mr. Growly-face.” Stiles rolled his eyes but now that the adrenaline and fear were wearing off the calm, rational Sheriff part of him was coming to the forefront. “Is someone going to explain what’s going on here?”

“You’re going to leave and not come back. This is private property,” Derek said. “Boyd.”

The gray one lashed out with his tail, knocking the flashlight from Stiles hand. He cursed as it went flying and the creatures disappeared into the darkness again. He heard them running away as he chased after his flashlight. When he found it and waved it around the room, the three monsters were gone.

If Mr. Growly-face Derek thought Stiles wouldn’t come back, he had another thing coming. Stiles wasn’t so easily dissuaded. He wanted to chase after the things right now, but his Deputy would be arriving any minute, and if Murphy couldn’t find him, there would be trouble for these things. He didn’t want that, oddly enough.

He found his ruined gun on the floor and climbed the stairs to the first floor. Stiles promised himself he would be back at the Hale House. Those things were going to answer his questions. Until then, there was always blessed Google, our lady of answers.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my beta was very busy this week and wasn't able to edit this chapter. Thus you all get to enjoy my horrible, horrible grammar. I apologize. Any and all mistakes that remain are mine and mine alone.
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos. You folks are great.  
> The Moose

Google, tragically, didn’t make it easy on him. Stiles typed in every combination of words he could think of. He even described what Derek looked like, then Erica and finally Boyd, the gray one. He got nothing but the usual devil pictures that weren’t even close. Most of the websites that came up were filled with glitter text and neo-paganism that would appeal to teenage girls and hippies. Stiles glared at his screen as he kept clicking the next button in the vague hope that something useful would be buried among the blue links and ads.

College had refined Stiles natural researching skills and police work had honed them to a sharp knife of awesome brilliance. He threw away the worst information right away, narrowed down the few sources that seemed legit and finally focused on one.

It was a translation of an old legend from Scotland. There was a castle, a war and a wizard. The castle had guardians, monstrous beings that attacked anyone who came after the castle. A general at the castle was jealous of the guardians who got all the praise and attention so he betrayed the castle. The general let the enemy into the castle disguised as refugees and when they attacked there was no time for the guardians to react. They were killed. The wizard was so angry he cursed the guardians for their failure. He froze them in stone forever. Only when the castle rose above the clouds would they be freed of their prison.

The story was a little iffy to Stiles because Derek and his buddies clearly lived underground and there were no castles in Beacon Hills but the drawings that went along with the story looked exactly like the monsters he met. They didn’t have a name besides ‘the guardians’ but Stiles had a secret weapon.

“What do you want, Stiles?” Lydia said the second she answered his call.

“Aw, come on, can’t a guy call his old high school crush just to talk?” Stiles said brightly, leaning back in his desk chair.

Lydia, even though she had disappeared from Beacon Hills as soon as she was able to decide between Harvard or Yale, was still pretty prominent in his life. It was his junior year when he finally got through the haze of his crush and saw how brilliant and how miserable Lydia was behind all her walls. They became friends, good friends, but Lydia was always smarter and snarkier.

“I have to teach a class in thirty minutes. Make it quick.”

“Are you going to give them the Fields medal speech?”

She scoffed. “They’ve already gotten it and understand if they don’t impress me they won’t pass with anything better than a B. If they’re lucky. You’re stalling.”

Stiles sighed, “Can you get a book for me?”

He could hear Lydia raise her eyebrow over the phone, imperious and perfect as always. “A book?”

“Yeah, the original copy of it? I kinda want to translate it myself.” Stiles didn’t know ancient Scotish but he could figure that out. He could translate classic and archaic Latin, bring it on archaic Gaelic.

“And why can’t you get this book yourself?”

“Because it’s in the archives of the Edinburgh Castle and they’re more likely to lend it to an accredited professor with a million awards for genius math than a small town Sheriff? It’s called the Legend of Castle Wyvern. Please? Pretty please? Remember what I did for you for Prom when Jackson was being a dick.”

“Why do you...” Lydia heaved a sigh. “No, no, I don’t want to know. This is going to turn out like that thing with potassium our senior year. I will call the museum and see perhaps if I can get you a copy of the original text. You will send me your recipe for basil tomato sauce.”

“Lyds, you can’t cook...” Stiles paused then sat up straight in his chair. “Did you get a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Tell me.”

“No.” There was a deliberate pause on Lydia’s part. “But he’s an excellent baker. Good-bye, Stiles. I’ll call you eventually.”

The phone went dead and Stiles was left gaping at it. When he didn’t have monsters to figure out he was so finding out who Lydia was seeing and running a very thorough background check. Yes, Lydia could handle herself but it was the only way he’d get the full story on the guy. She was terrible about sharing information with him. If only she wasn’t his best long distance friend.

Stiles drummed his fingers impatiently on his desk as he looked out the window of his office. It was still light out even though it was seven o’clock in the evening. He was supposed to get some reports done and check over the shift schedules for the next month but there was an itch in the back of his brain. He wanted to go back to Hale House. He just needed one more visit to confirm that the things he saw were real and he wasn’t insane.

He was pretty sure he wasn’t insane because his sidearm was mangled beyond belief.

Still, his dad’s voice was back there with the itch, counting up: one, two, three.

Stiles popped out of his chair, slung on his uniform jacket and strode out of his office. “Sheila, I’m going to make the rounds through town.”

“Sheriff, what about the schedule?” Sheila, who was dispatch and his secretary, looked very disapproving. “Henderson just had a baby. He’d really appreciate the time off and so would his wife.”

“Right right.” Stiles scrambled back into his office, shoved the proposed schedule in his jacket pocket and walked out with purpose again. “I’ll go sit at the speed trap and work on it there. Trapped in my car with no distractions. It’s perfect, okay? Okay.”

He could feel Sheila staring at him right between his shoulder blades as he walked out of the station, waving to a few Deputies as he passed them. Once in his patrol Jeep he shoved the schedule in his glove box where it would probably stay. After the Hale House he would go sit in a speed trap and fix it just like he said he would. Being Sheriff came with a lot of extra responsibilities.

Stiles took his job very seriously but he still warred with his natural curiosity and ADD. His dad taught him that part of being a good cop was trusting his instincts. He followed the facts, studied the evidence and came to logical conclusions in most cases. Sometimes there were people and cases that stirred something in Stiles, an itch, and his instincts were screaming at him that whatever was in Hale House was important.

The house looked the same as it had last night. The yard was still a disaster of weeds and tall grass. The outside was falling apart. The inside was the same too, neat and clean but sparse. Stiles didn’t bother to check the first and second floors again. He went straight to the basement, stopping at the top of the stairs to look for a light switch. There wasn’t one so his trusty flashlight came out again as he descended into blackness.

It was slightly less black than yesterday. He wasn’t here in the dead of night and some sun came through small, rectangular windows placed around the ceiling. He took his time to look around now that he could see. There were claw marks in the stone; deep gashes that were at every level from floor to ceiling. The floor was torn up in the same way.

The implication of that made him frown slightly as he continued his examination. Underneath the stairs he found a solid iron door that was scratched like the walls. What the hell went on down here, he wondered as he shouldered the thing open. There was a long dirt hallway on the other side that was actually nicely supported. He could see a few places where someone had shored up weak spots and made repairs.

That itch in the back of his mind kept him moving forward when anyone else might run from secret tunnels under a supposedly abandoned house that might potentially hold monsters. This was the opening of a horror movie if Stiles had ever seen one.

The hallway ended in a huge room, bigger than the basement. This was where they were living Stiles realized. The furniture that should have been upstairs was set up in distinct areas: living room, family room, kitchen and study. He noted there were five seats at the kitchen table. He also found the monsters only they were stone.

He walked close to the Derek statue - the eyebrows were very distinct - then around to Boyd and Erica who were frozen in an embrace with Boyd’s wings around Erica and her head tucked against his chest. Isaac sat in a corner, propped against the wall with his arm across his stomach where Stiles shot him. There was a fifth figure crouched over Isaac with a hand on his shoulder.

This one looked the most inhuman with a long beak instead of the humanoid faces that the rest had. It still had the wings, claws and tail like the others and from the loincloth Stiles figured it was male.

“They’re stone... just like the legend said,” he muttered to himself as the last rays of sunlight disappeared from the windows along the wall.

The first crack of stone sounded like a gunshot that started Stiles into reach for his gun. The fifth guardian was cracking, fissures racing across his stone surface to reveal amber colored skin below. With a roar the guardian broke free, smacking Stiles with a wing hard enough to knock him on his ass. His flashlight skittered away and bounced off Derek’s stone foot.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were there!” The guardian crouched down over him and looked him over for injuries. “Are you okay? Wait, you’re the one who shot Isaac...”

“Yeah, sorry about that. He scared the fuck out of me. I’m fine, by the way, even though I’ve been tackled by you guys twice,” Stiles said, coughing a little at the dust the guardian scattered everywhere with each movement. He groped behind him until he found his flashlight and grabbed it. The room was getting darker by the second.

“Okay.” The guardian sat back on his haunches, wings open slightly to help his balance. Besides the beak, the guardian had two horns that topped his temples, went up and then bent to go back along his head. They looked a little odd sticking out among the spikes of his short black hair but Stiles was taking it in stride. Everything was odd.

“I’m Scott.”

“Scott. I’m Stiles.” He held out a hand to Scott who looked at it curiously before he took it in his claws and shook it gently. “Wow, you can shake.”

“Laura taught us human things before she passed to the stone forever.” Scott’s tone became sad and he looked down at the floor. He was grieving, still, for the woman who had lived here, Stiles realized. Jesus, what had he found?

Stiles sat forward, his arms resting on his knees. “You guys are real huh?”

Scott nodded. “You’re not going to faint are you? The last human I tried to talk to fainted.”

“No. I’m pretty good at not fainting these days.” He had gotten over his weak stomach during college. If he kept fainting at the sight of blood he would never make it as Sheriff. “How come you’re the only one awake?”

“The others only wake up at true sunset. I don’t like the stone.” Scott shrugged his wings.

“Huh.” Stiles mulled that over for a second. “So, you like humans?”

“I do. If Derek wasn’t so controlling I could go out and meet more of you.” Scott glared at the back of Derek’s stone head. “He doesn’t want us making friends or learning anything more about your kind.”

Before Stiles could comment the cracking sounds started again but this time from the other guardians. Stiles scrambled up to his feet because he wasn’t going to face Derek’s wrath sitting on his ass. Scott slunk around him and put himself between Stiles and the rest of the guardians.

“I told you to stay away!” Derek roared the instant he got free of the stone and turned on Stiles.

Scott growled, a low warning and stood up a little so Stiles was more fully protected from Derek. Stiles really appreciated it. Derek was scary as hell with his eyes glowing and fangs showing.

“I wanted to make sure Isaac was okay,” he said, trying to sound calm and collected. “And to make sure you guys are real which clearly you are and I have no idea what to do with that information but it’s information I’m glad I have.”

A snarl from behind him blew hot breath across his neck and Stiles shivered involuntarily. He glanced out of the corner of his eye and met Isaac’s eyes. He squared his shoulders, turned and met the guardian head on.

“I’m sorry for shooting you.” He held out a hand. “And I’m glad to see you’re okay.”

Isaac huffed in his face and walked away, slinking around to Erica and Boyd who were standing slightly behind Derek’s right shoulder. Isaac was completely different from the others. Instead of having wings that sprouted from his shoulders, he was built like a sugar glider with the extra wing membrane strung between his arms and legs. He had horns sprouting from the corner of his eyebrows and a puff of curly dark blond hair on top of his head. Scott might have competition for most inhuman looking.

“Oh-kay, rude, but I guess I deserve that.” Stiles settled his hand on his gun belt, away from his weapon and lifted the flashlight high so he could get everyone in the beam. “Look, I’m not here to hurt you or cause you any problems.”

“You cause problems by being here,” Derek growled.

“We need a connection to the outside world,” Scott countered. “He can help us. He’s the Sheriff. Laura liked the Sheriff.”

“Ah, that was my dad. I’m the second Sheriff Stilinski but I’m very trustworthy and dependable. Just ask the folks who voted for me.”

Derek shot him a baleful look and turned his attention back to Scott. “We don’t need any humans protecting us.”

“We should have humans as friends. She would’ve wanted it this way.”

“Don’t tell me what she would’ve wanted!” The anger in Derek’s roar shook the earthen walls. The group behind him cowered but Scott raised his chin. Clearly, there was something going on here that Stiles did not understand.

“You know, I’m a sixth wheel here. I’ve got to get to work so you guys sort out your little family dynamic without me.” He edged around Scott, but the guardian turned just as quick and looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Will you come back?”

Stiles opened his mouth to say no because getting tangled up in this was a bad idea but what popped out instead was “Yeah, sure. I’ll bring pizza.”


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news everybody! This chapter has been beta-ed. No more will you have to suffer my bad grammar. 
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos and nice comments you've been leaving. I'm really amused that a fic littered with inside jokes and references no one will understand is getting so much love. You folks are awesome.
> 
> Moose

And that was the story of how Stiles became friends with a gargoyle. That’s what Scott and his clan were, gargoyles not guardians - though Scott said at one time they had guarded a castle in France, but that was hundreds of years ago when Scott was just a fledgling.

Scott was eager for any bits of information and interaction he could get with the world beyond the Hale basement. Stiles had become his main connection to the human world while Scott had become Stiles connection to the weird magical side. Apparently magic was a real thing. Stiles found himself at Hale House most nights in the last few hours of his shift before dawn, talking to Scott, getting him books and games. He brought food for the others, who were slowly warming up to him.

Erica liked to flirt and scare the crap out of him in equal measures. Boyd was a quiet presence most nights. Isaac was Scott’s shadow some nights, while other times he was Derek’s. The grumpiest gargoyle of them all mostly snarled at Stiles but didn’t try to claw his face off. This wasn’t how he imagined his life as Sheriff, but it was how things were turning out.

A knock at his office door snapped Stiles out of his thoughts. Deputy Murphy stuck his head in, “Hey, boss, there are two lawyers here to see you.”

“Wow, did I break a mirror?”

“Probably walked under a ladder.”

Stiles sighed, “Let them in.”

Murphy saluted him, the gesture nothing but sarcastic and disappeared down the hall again. In the few seconds he had before the sharks came in, Stiles straightened his desk, checked his uniform for any stray donut crumbs and got up out his chair. He was ready when two women, one blond and one brunette, walked into his office.

They were dressed in suits that looked almost dangerous with their sharp creases. The blond wore a black suit. Honestly, Stiles didn’t know black could be that deep and soulless but then again it was on a lawyer. The brunette was slightly more approachable in navy but she had the same hard edge to her.

“Ladies,” Stiles said calmly, “What can I do for you?”

“Sheriff,” the blond answered. Stiles guessed that meant she was in charge. “We’re with the firm of Argent and Argent, out of Los Angeles. We’ve been working to settle the Hale estate.”

A siren went off in the back of Stiles’ head, but he kept his expression only mildly surprised. “The Hale estate? The county took it over years ago. We donated the property to the local forest preserve. The deer are very happy.”

The blond’s chuckle was dry and completely false. That set off more warning bells in his head.

“I’m glad to hear it, but our client is very interested in retrieving some items from the house.”

“Welp, that’s going to be a problem as everything in the house was auctioned off or donated to charity.” Stiles gestured for the ladies to sit while he eased back into his chair. He didn’t lean back like he normally would. He wasn’t feeling relaxed. “I hate to say it but you two have probably wasted a trip out here. The most the Hale House can offer are some ghost stories and scared teenagers.”

“We don’t want to be a bother,” the brunette finally spoke up. Her smile was a little gentler, almost like she was relieved by the news. “But we would like to head out to the house to confirm for ourselves and our client. You understand.”

Stiles nodded his most ‘I’m very understanding of your problems and very sympathetic to them’ nod. “Give me a day to have a health and safety inspector out to the house. If he clears it for you folks to go in, I’ll give you the tour myself.”

“That’s a great idea.”

There was a snarl behind the blond’s eyes which turned the alarm in Stiles’ head to a tornado siren. Look, he didn’t believe that two lawyers would just show up out of the blue after years of nothing. He wasn’t stupid. There was something going on here.

“Do you ladies have a business card?” he asked pleasantly, looking all eager to please and happy to work with them.

Stiles exchanged business cards with the two lawyers. He promised to call them as soon as he had word and escorted them out of his office, spouting off recommendations to catch a late dinner. He watched them walk out and get into a black SUV. When they drove off, he turned sharply on his heel and approached Deputy Murphy’s desk.

“Have you ever heard of these guys?” Stiles slapped the business cards - one for Kate Argent and the other for Allison Argent - onto his desk.

Murphy was a transplant to Beacon Hills from L.A. He frequently complained about how boring Beacon Hills was but always volunteered to patrol the high school lacrosse games. Stiles suspect that had to do with Coach Mahealani.

“Uh... once, I think.” Murphy picked up the cards and turned them over in his fingers. “There was some sort of art theft, some statue or something and these guys were involved. They rub you the wrong way, boss?”

“We don’t get strangers in Beacon Hills.” Stiles plucked the cards from his fingers. “Can you ask some old buddies for information?”

“I’ll see what I can dig up. What are you going to do?”

“Go have the blue plate special.” He clapped Murphy on the shoulder and went back to his office. His fingers flew over his desk phone while he flopped back into his chair.

“Hey, Dad, how about dinner, on me?”

\---

The best thing about Beacon Hills was also the worst thing about it. It was a secluded small town in the middle of the woods. Gossip was the town’s favorite sport right behind lacrosse. The hub for all the somewhat factual information was the greasy spoon on Main Street. It had a perfect view of the center of town and all the little human dramas that played out beyond its windows.

Stiles slid into a booth where his dad was already waiting with a menu. It took two seconds for his dad to put it down, and then Stiles was faced with the serious face and hard eyes of the first Sheriff Stilinski. While the years had grayed his dad’s hair, they hadn’t dulled his wits.

“What is so important that you want to get dinner with me during the middle of the week? When you should be working.”

“Back when Laura Hale died, were you ever contacted by any lawyers about the estate?” Stiles fished the cards out of his jacket pocket before he took it off.

His dad looked them over and shook his head. “The only lawyer we talked to was Murdock. He handled the will, which donated the house and the property to the county. These two came to talk to you about the Hales?”

Stiles nodded, drumming his fingers on the table. “It’s weird as hell isn’t it? After all this time, it doesn’t sit right with me.”

“What did they want?”

“Stuff from the house, but there’s nothing left there.”

There was a brief pause while they placed their orders and made idle chit chat with their waitress. Stiles could see the wheels turning in his dad’s head even while he gave the waitress his full attention. He was extremely proud his dad hadn’t lost his edge, even in retirement. Okay, so he was proud to carry on the Sheriff Stilinski dynasty. Sue him.

“I’d tell you to talk to Murdock but he died two years ago.”

“Yeah, I remember.” Stiles fingers drummed a little quicker on the table. “Who got his stuff? His daughter, you think?”

“Possibly.” His dad narrowed his eyes slightly, emphasizing the wrinkles at the corner of his mouth. “There’s something you’re leaving out, kid.”

“Dad, come on, you can’t call me kid anymore.”

“You still call me dad. I get to keep calling you kid.”

“Point.” It took considerable effort on Stiles part not to shift in his seat. Lying to his dad was hard as hell. “Look, a few nights ago, I thought someone might be living in the Hale House, possibly making meth. We didn’t find anything but maybe...”

“Maybe you missed something. You think drug running?”

“I don’t know.” Stiles huffed in frustration. “I just think something’s up. Something’s weird.”

“I agree with you there, kiddo. Hang on.” His dad got up from the booth with his coffee mug in hand and moved to the bar. Stiles pretended he was busy with his phone - and you know, while he had it out he did a quick Google search on Argent & Argent. They had a very stylish website - while he watched his dad grill a waitress while he got his coffee mug refilled.

People loved his dad. Even after all these years they still trusted him first. Stiles wasn’t offended. He was working hard to earn their trust as much as his dad had. It would take a few years. He was ready to put that work in, but he wasn’t above using his dad for help every now and then.

It took considerable restraint on his part not to throw himself across the table when his father sat back down, and beg him for information.

“She says they’ve been coming in regularly for breakfast for two days,” his dad said after taking a sip of coffee.

“I hope that’s decaf. Your heart...”

“It is. Do you want to hear the rest of this?”

“Yes, sir.”

His dad chuckled softly. “There are two girls and a guy. The older two are brother and sister. The youngest is the brother’s daughter. They don’t talk to people, and they’re staying out at the Motel Six. They say they’re from L.A. but they don’t have the accent. They have the attitude, though. The sister is a bad tipper.”

“Huh.” Stiles sat back, digesting the information. “Two days before they came to talk to me.”

“Yup.”

“Huh.”

“The rumor is they’ve been seen driving around, night and day. They don’t seem to be going anywhere in particular, except the daughter’s been to City Hall. No one’s sure why.”

“There would be records of the property transfer there. Signed by witnesses.”

His dad looked proud which still made Stiles chest puff up. “They’re probably going to talk to those people.”

“I guess I’ll have to talk to them first.”

“Attaboy.”

\---

After dinner, Stiles wanted to drive out to the Hale House, but that as a bad idea. The two women had shown themselves, but the guy hadn’t. Stiles didn’t have a clue what he looked like, and if they really were after the gargoyles, he could potentially lead them right to them. He drove out past the Motel Six, circled around and came back to town, passing by it under the guise that he was looking for teenagers making out in cars. There were no black SUVs in the parking lot. The Argents were out.

There was nothing more he could do tonight except learn to live with the frustration brewing underneath his skin. The hardest part of anything for Stiles was waiting. He had to wait for lab results, coroner’s reports and witnesses to come forward. He was getting better at it, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. He finished his shift with a certain sense of unfinished business hanging over him.

When he got home to his downtown apartment, he jingled his keys in his hand and let what he had learned today swirl around in his head. A soft growl came from the living room, startling Stiles and causing him to jump three feet in the air. He came around the corner with his gun drawn but stopped short.

“Derek?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *insert evil laughter here*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, this chapter is un-betaed while my beta deals with family and the holiday. Any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone.
> 
> Here you go, the end to your torturous wondering about what the heck happened because of a cliff hanger. Enjoy!

Derek looked like a porcupine. Arrow shafts stuck out of his back from his shoulders to the base of his tail. He was slumped in the center of his living room, the window just over his shoulder open and curtains waving in the breeze. He snarled with each breath, but they were all pained and heavy.

Stiles rushed forward, “Derek!”

The gargoyle grabbed Stiles as soon as he was in range and yanked him down to the floor. Stiles’ knees hit the floor hard and he winced. “Who did you tell?”

“What?” Stiles tried to get a better look at the arrows and how injured Derek was. 

“Who did you tell about us?” Derek’s glowing red eyes bored into his. 

“I haven’t told anyone.” Stiles twisted his arm free. It said something for how bad things were that he could actually manage it. “Look, I got some visitors today that asked about the Hale House. How they found out something was going on out there, I don’t know.”

Derek growled deeply at him, a long sustained sound that rattled through Stiles’ bones until suddenly it cut out and Derek slumped even more. Stiles took the chance to take a better look at Derek’s back. Up close the arrows weren’t as many as he actually thought. At most, there were ten. The few glimpses Stiles must have caught between Derek’s wings made it look like there were more. 

“We need to get these out,” Stiles said, his voice calm and controlled. It was his Sheriff’s voice, for crisis and traffic accidents. He was sympathetic, but firm. “If you turn to stone with them in you, you won’t heal.”

“Scott has told you a lot about us.”

“He’s big on talking and so am I.” Stiles snuck a glance at Derek, raising an eyebrow. “Can you move to the bathroom? I’ve got a first aid kit there.” 

The blood would be easier to clean up as well, but Stiles thought it would be rude to mention that part. Derek looked pained, not just physically but from the idea of walking or accepting help from Stiles. Eventually he lifted an arm and gave Stiles a pointed look. 

Stiles ducked underneath his arm and helped steady Derek as they staggered towards the bathroom. He weighed a ton. Even though he was warm and heavy against Stiles’ shoulders Derek felt as heavy as stone. 

They collapsed together in the cramped tiled space. Derek was massive and seemed even bigger with the teeny-tiny space. Stiles’ apartment was perfect for one bachelor who never took long in the bathroom but for that man and a gargoyle it was completely wrong.

“Okay, okay, you just... yeah, hunch like that. Try to relax.” Stiles twisted and bent himself around Derek to get the first aid kit from underneath the sink. He twisted himself around again to get free and face Derek’s back. 

“This is really going to suck, okay?” Stiles wrapped a hand around the closest arrow shaft and got a firm grip. “Try not to roar.”

“Just get it over with,” Derek growled with his eyes closed. 

It took two firm pulls to get the arrow free. The only sign of pain from Derek was his lashing tail, which thumped hard against the wall and then the sink cabinets. The arrow heads were a fixed blade, broad type arrow head. Stiles had seen them when he encountered deer hunters in the preserve. They were good for bringing down big prey and stayed in the deer if they ran off.

Twenty painful, miserable minutes went by. Stiles thought about talking, babbling to distract Derek from the pain but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He had learned that sometimes silence was best and now that he was older he had the restraint to stay quiet. 

He dropped the last arrow shaft into the sink and began the even uglier task of cleaning the wounds. Derek continued on breathing, heavy, wet and steady. His tail danced back and forth, at one point wrapping around Stiles’ ankle before it quickly unwound and slammed into the wall. 

“Almost done,” Stiles said softly as he bandaged the last of the wounds. “There you go, there. Okay, we’re done. No more porcupine.” 

He ducked around to kneel in front of Derek, studying his pained expression. His heart went out to the guy. He looked monstrous but he was in pain. Stiles hated seeing people in pain. He reached out, intending to run his fingers through Derek’s hair. The instant his fingers touched the short strands, Derek’s hand shot up, grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away.

Derek got to his feet and walked away without explaining what that was about. Stiles scowled at his back as the gargoyle staggered his way back to the living room. “Yeah, you’re welcome, jackass.”

The bathroom was a disaster zone now. For now, Stiles tossed the arrows in the bathtub. He’d look them over in more detail when Derek was gone and he had answers to his questions. Everything bloody got shoved into a garbage bag and Stiles stripped out of his uniform shirt after washing the blood from his arms. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Stiles asked as he approached Derek, who was crouched in the center of the living room.

“We’re supposed to protect humans, but some don’t trust us,” Derek said, his eyes no longer glowing. “They hunt us instead. Laura protected us and until you showed up no one knew we were here.”

“So, gargoyle hunters found you guys at the house. Where are the others?”

“I led the hunters away from them.”

Stiles folded his arms across his chest, one foot tapping while his mind got to work. “Have you ever heard the name Argent?”

Derek instantly lost his calm. The glowing eyes came back and the growling started up. That was an obvious yes. Before Derek could yell at him, Stiles cut him off.

“They stopped by the office today and said they were lawyers looking into the Hale Estate. I was going to warn you guys and tell you to clear out before I brought them by to show them there was nothing in the house. Apparently they were impatient.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Only what they needed to know,” Stiles said with a roll of his eyes. “I said nothing about monsters living in the basement. The word basement never even came up.”

“Then how did they know?”

“I don’t know!”

They were about two steps away from being right in each other’s faces when Stiles’ cellphone went off. He cursed under his breath, dug the phone out of his pocket and answered with a snappish, “What?”

“Stiles!” Scott’s voice came through the line which instantly shocked Stiles out of his grumpy mood.

“Scott!” Stiles twisted away as Derek made a grab for the phone. He shoved a hand at the gargoyle’s face. “No. You crushed my gun. You don’t get any fun toys.”

“Uh...” Scott sounded confused. 

“Sorry, I’m talking to Mr. Two Year Old who thinks everything, including my apartment, is his. How’d you get a phone?”

“Allison let me borrow hers.”

“Wait, wait, Allison Argent?” Now Stiles had to pull of a complicated series of dance moves to keep the phone away from Derek.

“Yeah, she’s actually pretty nice. She didn’t even shoot me.”

Stiles luck ran out. Derek anticipated the way he was twisting and caught him. He grunted, hard, when Derek shoved him against the living room wall with a snarl. “Alright, alright, you son of a bitch, I’m putting it on speaker.”

He angrily pressed the button and glared at Derek while Scott’s enthusiastically worried voice came through the speakers. “Stiles, they caught Erica and Boyd. I don’t know where Derek and Isaac are...”

“I’m here,” Derek cut in. “What are you doing with one of them?”

“I broke her bow and asked her why she was hunting us.”

“You did what?!”

“People don’t always have to die, Derek!”

“Stop yelling!” Stiles pressed his hand over Derek’s mouth. “Scott, can you two get to my apartment without being seen? Or do I need to come out there and get you?”

He heard a woman’s voice in the background, but Stiles couldn’t make out any words. While they waited for Scott to speak again he and Derek exchanged glares.

“Allison thinks it would be better if you come get me. If she doesn’t go back, they’ll get suspicious.”

“Alright, we’ll come get you. Meet me at the west entrance to the forest preserve.”

“Thank you, Stiles.”

“Hey, protect and serve the people of Beacon County is something I take very seriously.” 

He flicked the phone off. Derek’s tail came up, yanked his hand off Derek’s mouth and snarled very close to his face. “If you do that again, I’ll rip your throat out with my teeth.”

“Yeah, that’ll go over well with the gargoyle hunters.” Derek dropped him and Stiles landed on his feet with a solid thump. “Climb out the window and meet me by the Jeep. You can hunker down in the trunk for the drive.”

\---

Scott and Allison, definitely the brunette from his office, were waiting in the shadows of the picnic pavillion. Stiles raised an eyebrow at her when she approached them. “A lawyer huh?”

She raised an eyebrow right back at him, “All the way out here for nothing, huh?”

Despite his better instincts, one corner of his mouth twitched up. Okay, so she was clever. Stiles liked clever. It was a habit. Derek wasn’t so amused. He growled deeply at Allison, grabbed Scott by the shoulder and yanked him away from her. 

“You two get in the Jeep before you’re noticed. I’ve got a few questions for Miss Argent here.” Stiles fixed Derek with a challenging look and held his gaze even when Derek’s eyes started to glow. He was pretty sure the ripping his throat out was an empty threat. Derek said it himself. Gargoyles were supposed to protect humans. He wouldn’t hurt Stiles. Of course, it helped that Scott was on his side.

“Come on. I’ll tell you what happened.” Scott climbed into the back of the Jeep. With all the seats down there was just enough room for both gargoyles to squeeze in. Stiles gave Derek a little finger wave as he closed the trunk door on them.

“Why did you come here for them?” Stiles asked, switching from his sarcastic self to the Sheriff. “It’s been years since Laura Hale died and they’ve kept very, very quiet. I only discovered them by accident.”

“There was an ‘animal attack’ here two weeks ago. It was pretty obviously one of them,” Allison explained.

“Uh, no it wasn’t. That was actually an animal attack. A mountain lion attacked a jogger on the high mountain trail.” Stiles remembered that incident. He had spent four days in the woods with the park rangers hunting for the animal. “We relocated him and there hasn’t been an attack since.”

“But Kate... the evidence all pointed to them.” Allison gestured to the Jeep. “The red one attacked us as soon as he saw us.”

“Did you point a gun at him? Because I’d do the same thing. And Scott? Even when he had you defenseless, he talked to you. He didn’t kill you. Sounds like Kate, lied to you.”

Allison stayed stubbornly quiet. Stiles sighed. Family loyalty was a strong thing. He could spend a few hours and get her to crack, but they didn’t have that kind of time. Three gargoyles were still missing, two of them in the hands of hunters and one just gone. He had bigger problems.

“Look, I’m going to leave you here. You tell your family whatever you want, but if something happens to Erica and Boyd, I’ll let them kill you.”

“But you’re the Sheriff.”

“But they’re my friends and never lied to me.” Stiles shrugged and turned his back on Allison. He climbed into the driver seat and left her there just like he said. “Where are we going?”

“The abandoned train depot. It’s where I told them to go if something happened,” Derek rumbled from the back. 

“She looks scared,” Scott said, concerned. 

“Good.” Derek and Stiles said together.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter that is un-beta-ed because I actually forgot I was writing this. I got a little distracted by real life. Whoopsies. So, here we go, the next chapter.
> 
> The exciting conclusion is slowly getting closer. I'm expecting only two more chapters, possibly three if I feel like doing an epilogue. We'll just have to see.

Beacon Hills used to be the last stop on a train line that ran down to wine country. The line was closed long before Stiles was born, but the train depot and train station remained on the edge of Beacon Hills, apparently the expensive of demolishing was too much for the company that owned it to bother. Stiles often chased teenagers out of exploring this place to. 

After he let Scott and Derek out of the back, he followed them inside. They cleared the chain link fence with a leap, but Stiles knew where their was a cut and slipped through. He had his trusty flashlight in hand when they walked inside. 

“Isaac?!” Scott ran forward into the darkness on all fours, navigating without a problem. Stiles kept track of him by the scratch of his claws and occasionally flash of eye-shine. 

Derek’s eyes were trained up, towards the ceiling. Stiles swung his flashlight beam up and almost dropped it when bright blue eye-shine appeared. 

“Isaac?” he asked Derek. The gargoyle shook his head.

“I suppose I should introduce myself.” The voice came from the same place as the blue eye-shine. Stiles guessed he was another gargoyle but he was not expecting the creature that came down from the rafters.

He was an gargoyle at some point in time, built similarly to Derek but this gargoyle was scarred all along his right side and was missing one wing. The scars were a dark, navy blue while the unscarred skin was more of a slate blue-gray, like gun-smoke. He walked with a slight limp as he approached them with a slightly twisted smile.

“What brings you to visit me, Derek?” the newcomer asked as he settled in a crouch in front of them. “It must be something important.”

Derek stared down at him, his face closed off like he was made of stone. “The Argents found us.”

The blue gargoyle’s eyes flashed before he schooled his emotions down again. “Ah. That is important.”

“They have Erica and Boyd. Where would they go?” Derek folded his arms over his chest, looming over the other gargoyle. 

The gargoyle shrugged, his remaining wing twitching slightly as if it had difficulty moving without the matching wing. Or maybe the muscles in his shoulders were messed up from the scars. “Is Gerard with them?”

Stiles stepped into the conversation without being invited. “There are three of them. I met two, Allison and Kate. The small town rumor mill says the third is a male in his forties and he’s the father to one and brother to the other. After meeting Allison, I’d say it’s her father because of the age difference.”

The other gargoyle smiled at him. “And who’s this? The Sheriff? Derek, you’re making some powerful friends at last.”

“Peter,” Derek growled the name, part threat, part warning. “You started this. I’m going to end it. Tell me where they would take our clan members.”

Okay, Stiles was completely confused by that statement but it was very interesting. He bit his tongue on the questions he wanted to ask. He might learn a little more if he stayed quiet.

“Maybe I did but you had a hand in it too, did you nephew?” Peter chuckled as Derek’s growl increased in intensity. “They would go underground, somewhere secure where they could keep our kind locked up without trouble. Sheriff, do you know of anywhere like that?”

“Uh, not really?” Stiles racked his brain for the places in Beacon Hills that fit that particular description. “Well, the high school has a bowler room with a solid steel door. It’s mostly underground and pretty sturdy from what I remember. There’s also the abandoned mall that is a good place to hide a lot of weird activity. Or the abandoned bank. It’s from like the 1920s and has one of those old fashioned steel vaults. Seriously heavy duty stuff.” 

“All three are very good choices,” Peter mused. 

“The mall is too open for them to hold them,” Derek countered, his tail twitching back and forth. “The school will have too many people. They’re taking them to the bank. Scott! Did you find Isaac!?”

“We’re here.” Scott supported Isaac with an arm around his waist and a wing around his shoulders. “He was in one of the train cars.”

Derek moved away from Peter, who moved closer to Stiles. It was probably the scars that made him so uncomfortable, but Stiles tried not to let that show. He was the Sheriff. He was a tough guy, a strong guy. He could handle this. 

“How bad is it?” Derek asked, crouching in front of Isaac, looking concerned and worried. 

“I got the arrows out. It’ll heal at dawn,” Isaac said with a forced smile.

“Unfortunately, at dawn, the Argents will break out the sledge hammers and destroy our clanmates.” Peter spoke up. “You don’t have much time.”

“I can delay them,” Stiles said without even thinking about it. He hated when his mouth ran away with him like that. “They want a tour of the Hale House right? I can do that. I can waste their whole day with stuff like taking them to talk to lawyers and safety inspections. It gives you guys time to heal, then tomorrow night we can go to bank and get your friends back.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Scott smiled at Stiles, but Derek was glowering.

“You shouldn’t involve yourself.”

“Yeah, a little late for that, big guy. The moment you showed up in my apartment, you got me involved.” Stiles shrugged. “And it’ll give me time to talk to Allison.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“If you didn’t notice, I sowed the seeds of doubt back in that parking lot and Scott won her over with words instead of violence. I think if we work her over, we can win her over to our side.”

“Adopted another human. How quaint, Derek.”

“Okay, so you’re the creepy uncle every family has.” Stiles took a big step sideways. “Look, you’ve trusted me this much, trust me a little longer.”

“I don’t trust you,” Derek hissed.

“I do,” Scott interrupted. “But are you sure you can keep them occupied all day? When we are stone we’re our most vulnerable. That’s what hunters wait for.”

“If there’s one thing I can do, it’s keep people distracted. If I can’t, I’ll just... toss them in a jail cell or something. I can hold people for twenty-four hours before I have to press charges. It’s the best option we’ve got.”

“We can go now. We can take them by surprise. They won’t expect us to attack,” Derek argued, stalking towards Stiles. “We don’t need your help.”

“Uh, yeah, you kind of do. Besides, what are two of you going to do against them? You’re walking around, but are you honestly in fighting shape?” Stiles looked Derek up and down then raised an eyebrow slowly. “I don’t think so. Scott’s the only one not injured and he certainly can’t take them on himself.”

Derek growled close to his face but Stiles stood his ground, eyebrow still raised. He was getting used to Derek’s posturing. That’s all it was, posturing. He figured out that Derek was all growl, no bite except possibly in the case of these hunters. Stiles thought he was serious about killing them. Stiles wanted to avoid that. It did go against his personal beliefs, but he really liked these gargoyles and while he didn’t know Boyd and Erica as well as Scott, he didn’t want them to die.

“It’s your best option, Derek. You trusted me to patch you up, now trust me to do my job,” Stiles pressed. He could do this. He could.

“If anything happens to them...”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Your teeth, my throat.” Stiles patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow night. Scott, make sure tall, dark and broody here doesn’t run off to play martyr.”

“Oh, I like this one.”

Peter’s approval was just as creepy as the rest of him.

\---

The station house was never empty. Stiles waved to a few of his deputies on his way to his office, then locked himself inside. The clock on his desk said it was three in the morning. A Google search told him the sun would rise at 5:15 in the morning. So, he had two hours to throw together his brilliant distraction plan. Awesome.

First, he pulled together all the information he could get on what happened to the Hale house after Laura Hale died. He put it all together in three files, but in the third he also put all the information he had on the mountain lion attack that caused the idiot hunters to show up in the first place. That was a special file for Allison, who he was hoping to sway over to his side. At least in this case if nothing else. 

He also threw together a fake church bulletin about an auction for the Hale house furniture because he hadn’t expected that lie to come back and bite him in the ass. Thank God he had basic Photoshop skills to make something passable. 

Just before the sun rose Stiles called Allison. She answered in two rings with a tentative “Hello?”

“Miss Argent? It’s Sheriff Stilinski,” he said cheerily. “I wanted to let you know that I can take you and your family to the Hale House. They finished the inspection yesterday. I thought I could swing by to your motel and pick you up. Though, I’m thinking breakfast first. I haven’t eaten yet.”

He bit his lip, shifted in his seat and waited, prayed he had the right impression of Allison from Scott and from their quick little quip off. The pause went on a little longer than he would have liked, making his fingers dance quicker and quicker over the top of his desk.

“Sure, Sheriff, that sounds great.”

“And I heard your dad was with you too. Invite him along. I wouldn’t want him to miss out on the best pancakes in Beacon Hills.”

There was another long pause and some whispers in the background. Stiles spun in his chair before he drummed his fingers through his desk.

“Alright, but it’s a little early.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, I got a call about teenagers around the old bank. A small town Sheriff never sleeps.”

“Oh, you did?”

“Yeah, I’m going to leave a deputy out there for a few days and that’ll scare them off. But, hey, not a big deal. I’ll come swing by and get you guys in ten minutes. The coffee will be fresh.”

“Sure, Sheriff. That’s fine.”

They said their goodbyes and Stiles threw his arms up in victory. Step one of his plan was working. He really would put a deputy outside the bank before nightfall, to keep the Argents away, but the whole day of distractions was going to be some tricky maneuvering. Now he had a very awkward breakfast to sit through.

Step two of his plan was to squeeze into the booth next to Allison while he handed out his files and talked. While he talked he took stock of the Argents. Allison was doing a good job of looking like she hadn’t spent a large part of the night out in the woods making friends with what her family hunted. Kate looked pleasant and amused but when Stiles wasn’t looking at her he could catch glimpses of her frustration and annoyance. 

Now, Chris Argent was a little different. He seemed to be studying Stiles as much as Stiles was studying him. Kate was dangerous, but Stiles thought Chris might be his biggest problem. If the guy figured out Stiles plan, well, then he was up shit creek.

“Tell me, Sheriff,” Chris broke in when Stiles paused for a breath during his recounting of Beacon Hill’s history. “Do you go to the Hale house often?”

“Not really. I usually send deputies out there if teenagers are out there.”

“That’s funny. When we drove past the house I thought I saw your car out there.”

“My car?” Stiles leaned out of the booth a little to look at his patrol car, an SUV with the traditional Beacon County paint job. “All the cars sort of look the same. It’s an easy mistake to make.”

“Huh. Well, maybe I got the liscense plate wrong.” Chris shrugged and sipped at his coffee.

Well damn, these guys were professionals weren’t they? It took a lot of restraint to keep from glaring at Chris.

“Sorry, my Dad was an MP in the Army. Old habits die hard.” Allison was able to give her dad a glare for Stiles. He appreciated it. “Thank you for putting these files together for us. You didn’t have to.”

“I wasn’t much help when we first met. I was a little distracted. One of my deputies just had a baby and I was all about scheduling when you stopped in.” Stiles tried to figure out of Allison meant she had read the special information for herself and if it changed her mind but her expression gave away nothing. Damn it. “I’m usually a very helpful guy. We’re a helpful town.”

“I really hope you mean that,” Kate said with a smirk.

That felt like a threat. Stiles smiled pleasantly in return. “Oh, I do.”

He could make threats with smiles too.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little late on the update today, but that's once again due to real life things getting in the way.
> 
> I might not be able to update on time next week as I will be in a middle of Iowa in some small town with possibly no internet. I plan on writing and if I can I will update.
> 
> We're getting closer and closer to the ending too. Excitement!

As they walked up to the Hale House Stiles couldn’t tell anything different about the place. There were no tire tracks in the dirt leading to the house and he didn’t see a door kicked in. It was the same slightly creepy old house it always was. How had they hidden their tracks so well? 

“Well, here you go.” Stiles stopped at the bottom porch step, which creaked under his weight. “The Hale House in all it’s decrepit glory. I recommend sticking to the first and second floors, which are still structurally sound. Mostly. The inspector said we’d be fine as long as we don’t do jumping jacks or something.”

Allison was the only one who bothered with an amused smile. Tough crowd. Stiles sighed under his breath and climbed the remaining steps. He opened the door, then stepped back to let the Argents in first.

The inside of the house was a little different now. By a little different Stiles meant it was destroyed. There were signs of a fight in the broken through walls and scuff marks in the dust. He picked out a few very obvious bullet holes and shotgun spreads. The majority of the fight must have taken place on the first floor. 

“As you can see, kids have made a mess of the place,” he said, acting like the damage was nothing he hadn’t seen before. 

“The damage doesn’t seem to be structural,” Chris said, playing along with the ruse. 

“You’d know better than me.” Stiles rested his hands on his belt and shrugged. “I’ll let you look around in peace.”

With that he walked off to the kitchen, very deliberately catching Allison’s eye before he disappeared around the corner. He listened to them walking around the house, talking quietly to each other. He couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was clipped and professional, but angry. It took Allison about five minutes to join him in the kitchen. 

“Your sister faked that evidence,” he said softly when she came to lean against the counter next to him.

“Maybe.”

He shook his head, “No, she did. I know it’s hard to believe but come on, you met them. Do they act like killers?”

“They are dangerous.”

“So are people in the right circumstances.” Stiles put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I can tell you’ve got a good heart. Scott’s an awesome judge of character. I mean, he picked me for a best friend you can’t get better taste than that. Your family is going to kill innocent people, Allison, and I don’t think you want to be involved in that.”

Allison looked in the direction of her family’s voices with a small, sad frown. It took all his willpower not to push. This was a delicate game. If there was too much pressure, Allison would side with her family simply because they were familiar and loved. Stiles had to use a gentle touch and get her to see the truth for herself. 

“You could easily make up evidence just like she did.”

Stiles did a little victory dance in his head. “Yeah, but I could have. She did.”

Allison looked at him, then at the ground. “They won’t let them go. I can show the reports to my dad but... the women get the final say in the hunt. The men follow orders.”

“Score one for the matriarchy, but tell me where they are and I’ll get a patrol car out. The old bank is our best guess but there are two lives at stake. I need to be sure, Allison.”

“Allison?” Kate walked into the kitchen and Stiles almost cursed out loud. Luckily, his tirade stayed in his head. “What are you doing in here, sweetie?”

“I was just asking the Sheriff about the town. That abandoned bank has some great Gothic architecture, don’t you think?” Allison said with a bright smile. 

“Tourists always like the quaint small town thing Beacon Hills has going on,” Stiles leapt in, but his smile was probably a little manic. It wasn’t his fault. He hoped, so hoped, Allison was implying what he thought she was. “I mean, we have one of the biggest populations in Beacon County, but you know, we’re still small compared to some of the nearby places.”

“Well, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’re almost done with our inspection.”

“That was quick.” Stiles mentally started to scramble for the next distraction. “Are you sure you’ve seen everything?”

“Everything we need, Sheriff. And I’m sure you’re a busy man. We don’t want to keep you too much longer.”

“Are you sure? I can take you to talk to the lawyer in charge of...”

“No thank you.” Kate cut him off. Her expression was becoming somewhat strained. Once again, Stiles saw something not right in her. “We prefer to handle these matters ourselves.”

“I’ll just get out of your way then.” Stiles nodded a little at Kate as he stood from where he was leaning. “Let you three finish up and, uh, do whatever lawyer things you need to do.”

There was no quick way to untangle this mess. He could insist and push, but he didn’t want them to get suspicious. More suspicious since Kate was already side-eyeing him like she knew what was going on.

He made idle chit chat while they drove back to the Argents hotel. It was the most tense car ride Stiles had been involved in since his dad drove him to Prom in his patrol car. Yeah, that night was a very embarrassing memory. This car ride, trying to fill the silence was worse. 

The second they were out of his car, Stiles picked up a radio and put a patrol car on the bank. Night couldn’t come fast enough. 

\---

“We are not killing them!” Stiles yelled, his finger inches from Derek’s snarling face. This was not going his way. Derek was enraged. No, seriously, he had the glowing eyes and snarling teeth and looked like he might actually rip Stiles’ throat out but he was standing firm on this. “We are going on a rescue mission and we’re going to rescue them, but we are not killing the Argents.”

“They won’t be so forgiving. They’ll kill you without a second thought!”

“That’s why I have the vest.” He gestured to his chest and the bulletproof vest. “And you better tone it down before I pepper spray you. We’re doing this my way or I won’t let you.”

“What makes you think you get a say in this?” Derek loomed over him, his voice a constant growl.

“This is my town. They are people in it. I protect them the same way I protect you and your clan.” He poked Derek in a chest. “If you want to stay here in this town, you’ll follow my rules, you’ll follow the law.”

Scott came up and put a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Derek, he’s right. We can’t live here without him. Do you want to leave the house?”

There was a tense moment where Derek seemed to be shaking apart from the anger under his skin but then it left him. He curled it under his skin and his emotions became stone. If it wasn’t for the dark red skin Stiles would believe he was stone. The last time someone had shut him out that well was his last girlfriend.

“Look. I’ve had a car sitting out there all day,” Stiles said after taking a deep breath. “The Argents can’t go there as long as the car’s there. I’m going to drive out there, relieve the guy and you’ll get in with no trouble. Okay? The Argents won’t make a move. We’re good.”

Peter chuckled. “His optimism is refreshing. A shame he’s likely to die tonight.”

“The love in the room is just amazing.”

\---

When Stiles got out of his car he was a little surprised that his deputy didn’t get out of his car to greet him. They were a very friendly police force. He could see his deputy right there in the driver seat. He waved and got no response. Well, shit.

He jogged over to the car and tapped on the window. He got no response. His deputy was slumped over in his seat. Stiles yanked the door open and checked the pulse. There was one. There were also two taser marks on his neck. “Fuck!”

He ran back to his car, opened the trunk and grabbed his beanbag gun. The Sheriffs’ Department had purchased three non-lethal rounds weapons. Stiles got one because he was the Sheriff. It looked like a shotgun and held ten rubber bullets. He called it Eureka because when he shot criminals with it, they had a eureka moment and stopped running. 

“Derek, Scott, if you’re out here they beat us here!” He grabbed a spare clip of rubber rounds and sprinted for the front door of the bank, that was still chained shut. 

Scott leapt over his shoulders, grabbed the chain and broke it in two by simply yanking on the chain. The gargoyles poured past him, Isaac following after Scott and Derek bringing up the rear. All three roared, the sound loud enough to shake dust down from the ceiling. 

The shot came seconds later from the second floor. Stiles dove for cover behind an old counter. “Keep them distracted. I’m going to the vault!”

He had no idea if they heard him. There was a lot of roaring and gunshots. He figured since they were supernatural creatures, their hearing was good enough to hear it. Staying crouched low, Stiles ran across to the next counter, then behind the sales desk. 

A bullet cracked into the counter over his head. “Oh, sure, shoot the sheriff, that’s a great idea! I’m already arresting you for tasing my deputy!”

“Stiles! Get to Boyd and Erica!” Derek’s voice echoed around the bank.

“Keep them from shooting me!”

Since he didn’t get a response, Stiles ran forward into the back office. He checked the hall before he moved forward and started to check room by room. Something behind him crashed. There was a scramble then more roaring and chaos. 

Stiles ignored it all as he swept from room to room. When he turned the corner and Allison was there he knew he found the right room. “Put it down, Allison. Let’s just get this done with. An innocent...”

There was pain at the back of his head, a crack, and then blackness.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I was away from the internet last week, I decided to update a day early! I'm so nice aren't I?
> 
> Enjoy!

The blackness didn’t last. Stiles head swam and his stomach rolled as he caught himself on his hands. The world was going crazy in his vision but he was still conscious which was a big step in the right direction. 

“Oh, Sheriff!” Erica’s voice, then Erica’s hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know it was you. Why didn’t you say something?!”

“You’re free?” he asked and choked a little as he fought the urge to throw up. He could feel blood trickling down the back of his head and the side of his neck. “What did you hit me with?”

“A piece of the wall.” Erica took a hold of his arm and hauled him to his feet. “One of the hunters set us free when you and the clan showed up.”

It was pointless to hold his stomach back after that. He threw up, trying to turn his head away from where he thought Erica was standing and his shoes were. “I hate concussions,” he croaked. “At least my hunch about Allison turned out to be correct. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

He kept his weapon clutched in one hand while he threw his arm over Erica’s shoulders. Her wing came around to help support him. He was still dizzy and sick, though his vision was settling down. They stumbled their way through the back hallways of the bank, Erica knocking debris out of the way with her tail. Stiles twisted out of her grip when they came to the back door to get out of the way as she kicked it open.

“Go! Tell the others it’s open. I’ll keep it covered.” Stiles propped himself against the wall next to the door with a good view of the outside if he looked over his shoulder and the single hallway leading to his position.

Erica nodded sharply and then ran off, cream colored skin glowing softly in the moonlight. On his own, Stiles concentrated on breathing and clearing his head. He’d been hit pretty hard, but it wasn’t bad. Not really. Well, maybe it was comparable to some hits he took in lacrosse but without the pads and helmet. Damn, he would’ve really liked a helmet for that. 

The smell of smoke and a collective roar got Stiles to move away from the door. There wasn’t any action back here anyway. The Argents hadn’t brought any backup. Stiles should’ve brought back up. He should’ve brought the whole fucking Sheriffs department and explained away the gargoyles as a massive hallucination brought on by bad coffee and little sleep. Totally plausible. 

“Kate! Kate!” Allison was screaming when he rounded the corner into the bank lobby. Her father was holding back while dragging her towards the front door. 

Fire licked across the floor, catching on old desks and chairs and debris that littered the floor. Stiles followed the line of it to an upended can of gasoline. Someone, he suspected Kate, had made a very effective wall of fire. A fire wall, if you would. Stiles was pretty pissed. He was pretty pissed because the wall stood between him and Derek and Scott. 

Isaac, Boyd and Erica all stood on his side and Stiles quickly moved up to put himself between them and the fire that was slowly spreading as the gasoline kept pouring. He couldn’t see Peter. 

“Go to my car,” he said, singling out Chris Argent. “Call it it on the radio and then fucking disappear.”

“Sheriff.”

“Go! Before I fucking change my mind and arrest both of you.”

For a moment, Chris looked ready to challenge him but the man gave and nod and forcibly dragged Allison out. Stiles looked at the gargoyles next. “Go out the back door and get out. Hide somewhere.”

“But Derek...” Isaac protested. 

“Why is everyone fucking arguing with me!? Go!” He cocked his gun. “I’ll take care of this.”

“Come on.” Boyd put a hand on Isaac’s shoulder and reluctantly the clan turned and left. Stiles swallowed and approached the fire line. He didn’t really have a plan so much as a theory. It was a pretty shitty theory but this was a pretty shitty situation so it might just work. The biggest problem was Scott. 

He was on the ground and bleeding pretty badly judging from the pool underneath him. Derek stood over him on all fours, wings mantled down like a hawk with its kill, completely blocking Kate’s shot by putting himself in the line of fire of a very big barreled sawed off shotgun.

“How’d you kill Laura Hale?” Stiles yelled, doing what he did best, stalling for time with unnecessary words. His vision just needed to be a little more steady and he could take a shot through the flames. He just needed a little more time. “I mean, yeah, she was old but not that old. She dropped dead and I checked, heart attack. I’m pretty familiar with heart problems and Laura Hale was not a woman who should have heart problems.”

Stiles licked his lips and grinned as Kate’s eyes swung towards him for half a second. There was nothing but crazy in there. “Yeah, yeah, I figured it out. Kinda had a hunch and had a deputy do a little looking for me. He was surprised to discover that two weeks after Argent and Argent opened a branch in New York City a sculpture gallery was broken into and vandalized. A bunch of statues from Scotland were smashed to pieces. Very rare pieces, very expensive. Your firm handled the insurance claim.”

“Because, hey, if you’re going to hunt monsters you might as well make a profit off of it right?” Stiles shook his head which was a bad idea because wow, those were black spots in his vision. Whoops. “So, you found Laura Hale and figured rinse and repeat. Get her out of the way, handled the estate and destroy the clan. Right? Come on, crazy bitch, tell me I’m right.”

“You should’ve stayed out of this, Sheriff.” Kate looked vicious but her eyes were still firmly on Derek.

Stiles laughed. “You’re kidding right? I’m the Sheriff. It’s my job to stick my nose into everything. At first I didn’t get what went wrong. You had the perfect set up, but you didn’t get it. You fucked up because Laura Hale saw you coming, didn’t she? Because Laura Hale was a curator of that sculpture gallery in New York. And these guys?”

He swept an arm towards Derek and Scott, “These guys were the ones that got away. I figure in storage somewhere, away from the main gallery. You’ve been hunting them for years, trying to figure out where Laura Hale smuggled them away from.”

“She shouldn’t have done that.”

“Oh, yeah, because offering her friends up to you was totally the reasonable option.” Stiles made sure Kate could hear the eyeroll in his tone. “And even though you killed her, got her out of the way she had measures in place to fuck you over. You couldn’t get anywhere near the house or the clan. You had to wait and wait and wait. It drove you mad, I bet.”

“She was already mad,” Derek growled. 

“Yeah, but a dead woman bending you over a metaphorical desk and reaming your ass...”

Kate swung on him, but Stiles saw it come and was quicker on the trigger. He shot the first lead filled kevlar beanbag at her chest, ducked and rolled, then came up and shot her knee. Her shot went wild as she fell. Derek leapt through the air and came down on her with a vengeful roar. 

Kate screamed then there was a wet gurgle and silence except for the crackling of flames. “Get out the back door! Go, go, go!”

“You...”

“Will go out the front! GO!”

Derek scooped Scott up into his arms and vanished deeper into the bank. Stiles made a break for the front door with smoke chasing after him. The bank was going up rather quickly for a mostly stone building. Stiles stumbled out into the night air, taking deep gulping breaths. 

“Where’s my sister?” Chris asked, anger very much evident in his voice.

Stiles pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “You’re welcome to go get her, but I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s hot in there.”

“You let them kill her?”

“Yeah, I did. She killed Laura Hale. She was going to kill the whole clan and me since I got in the way. She might have killed Scott tonight even though everyone in there was innocent!” Stiles drew himself up to his full height, which was very impressive if he did say so himself. “Someone was always going to die tonight. And you know what? The right person did. Now, get the fuck out of my town and never fucking come back. The Hale Clan is under my protection now. If anyone tries to hunt them... well, look what happens.”

Chris was just about ready to go off on him. Stiles could tell his temper was building and about to explode but sirens came first. Chris grabbed Allison by the wrist and dragged her off. Stiles stood with the heat from the fire warming his back, quickly turning scorching hot. He took a few more deep breaths, coughed from the smoke and threw up again.

Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand he walked back to his patrol car to check on his deputy. This was going to be a hell of a case to spin.

\---

Rattling on his fire escape made Stiles pause in flipping through take out menus. There was only one type of visitor that used his fire escape instead of the front door. It was why he left one window unlatched all the time now. 

“Scott, seriously man, I’m okay. You don’t have to check on me every night.” Stiles bunched the stack of menus together and carried them with him into the living room. If Scott was going to spend another night hovering over him, he might as well give the gargoyle a say in what was for dinner. 

“You are not Scott.” 

“No, I’m not.” Derek folded his wings around his shoulders. He stood in the center of Stiles’ living room, looking regal and menacing all at the same time. It was a talent of Derek’s. 

“So... you’re not riddled with arrows. I have no idea why you’re here.” Stiles tossed the menus onto the coffee table and shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “Unless you’re going to threaten me? Flash your glowy eyes and growl about secret keeping and other bullshit.”

“Scott told me you’re under investigation.”

Stiles shrugged. “It kinda looks suspicious when you’re at an arson fire with a bean bag gun and they find two shots next to a dead body. I’ve got some ‘splanin to do Lucy.”

The cultural references went right over Derek’s horned head. Stiles shook his. “Look, in another week or two they’ll accept my explanation and move on with their lives. I’ll get my badge back. All will be right in the world.”

Stiles was a little more worried than he let on, but there was no reason to give Broody McBrooderson more reasons to brood. Scott’s guilty puppy eyes were bad enough. Isaac’s too when he came over with Scott. Things were either going to work out or not and Stiles was trying not to panic over that. 

“Word will get around with the hunters,” Derek said, his earthy rumble snapping Stiles back to the present instead of the unknown future. “They’ll know we’re here and that you’ve declared yourself protector.”

“Isn’t there a code or something to keep them from hunting you? I mean, the Argents waited for the animal attack.” Stiles took a step closer to check how Derek was healing. There were no marks from the arrows, not even a single scar. The stone had some pretty impressive healing powers.

“The Argents are one of the few who still follow the Code and even then...”

“They don’t really. Okay, I get your point.” Stiles huffed out a breath and smiled lopsidedly at Derek. “I guess I better keep my ear to the ground for strangers coming to town and checking out the Hale House.”

“We’re leaving it.” Derek glanced around the room and then back at Stiles. “We’re moving to the train station. We can’t stay there anymore.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Stiles rocked back on his heels, “Do you guys need anything?”

Derek scowled at him in confusion. “After everything, you’re still going to help us?”

“Yup.” He punched Derek in the shoulder, lightly because if he did it too hard it would hurt his hand. Derek was flesh, but he was also stone with his rock hard muscles. “That’s what I do. Protect and serve.”

Derek continued to scowl, but this one looked more considering so Stiles let him think about it. Really, Stiles had no idea what he was getting into. The Argents were probably the tip of the strange iceberg he had stumbled on with the Gargoyles. He was, undoubtedly, going to be torn between keeping the Hale clan a secret and doing his job. Stilinskis were stubborn though. Stiles was in this for a long haul. 

He was a bit surprised when Derek jerkily reached out and ran his hand through Stiles’ hair. He blinked at the gargoyle who refused to look at him, even as the tip of his claws played with the short ends of hair at the back of Stiles’ neck. It was the first friendly gesture Derek had ever made towards him. It actually warmed the cockles of his heart, whatever those were. 

“You want to stay for dinner?” Stiles asked and gestured to the menus scattered on his table. “I have very fine choices on speed dial.”

Derek let his hand drop and nodded. “I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made it! I finished a story! Wheee! 
> 
> Another happy birthday to the totally awesome Virtuldon, who this story is for. 
> 
> A HUGE thank you to all the reviewers and super awesome comments I've gotten on a story that is essentially filled with inside jokes and ideas between myself and Donya. You guys are completely awesome. Every single one of you. I'm so happy! I feel bad no responding to people, but I'm an introvert and talking to strangers makes me nervous. I love you all though, really.
> 
> And last but not least, for those of you not in the know gargoyles kiss by running their hands through their mate's hair or caressing their horns. Yay inter-species romance!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try and update this on Thursdays. Try being the key word. If I ever figure out how long it's going to be I'll let you folks know.
> 
> The Moose


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